


Fortune's Unfavored: the last days of Ravus Nox Fleuret

by Adrastos



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Aranea Highwind, Battle, Bittersweet Ending, Essentially an Episode Ravus, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Poor Ravus Nox Fleuret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrastos/pseuds/Adrastos
Summary: Ravus Nox Fleuret is a dead man walking, and he knows it. He's a complete failure of a protector to his sister, and he knows it. There's still one thing that he needs to do before he dies, one thing that will let him die knowing that he's done his part for the chosen king that Luna believed in. It will cost him everything before his time runs out.





	1. A New Purpose

“Well _that_ was rather reckless.” The pain in his chest from where Ardyn had struck him in the chest seared with every word, but based off his own experience with the Ring of the Lucii Ravus didn’t doubt for a second that Ignis’s pain was even greater. In light of that, Ravus had to hand it to the other man: to be still standing, stumbling as he may have been, was impressive.

At any rate, Ignis soon collapsed and started groaning. “Wh-where’s Noct?” The King’s retainer wheezed after every breath. “Is he-is he alright?”

By all rights, after the idiot had beaten him senseless and stabbed his arm while lecturing him on the need to move on and accept that his beloved sister was dead, Ravus should have just left him there. It wasn’t like Ignis had been in any hurry to extend comforting words when they’d stumbled across Luna’s dead body, after all. Ravus owed Ignis nothing.

Well, except his life. _One more debt added to the list_. There were so many…

So instead of leaving Ignis alone on the ground Ravus knelt down in front of the fallen retainer. “More or less – all thanks to you.” The tenderness in his voice surprised even Ravus. It was the same tone that he used when comforting someone on the battlefield, someone who had given his life for the Empire or the people of Eos. His comrades. _I guess that’s what we are, now. Comrades-in-arms to protect those we love._ He prayed that Ignis would be more fortunate in that regard than he was.

Ignis managed to choke out a “thank goodness” before his coughing overtook him, and as he did Ravus heard new voices approaching.

“Iggy! Where are you?”

“Noct! Iggy!” It was the other two men that Noctis traveled with. At the sound of their shouts Ignis moaned and tried to sit up, and Ravus could tell that the effort was hurting him more than he could bear.

Ravus bent over him, trying to offer words of comfort. “Conserve your strength. You have a calling to fulfil.” He stood up. “As do I. May fortune favor us both.”

He intended to leave at that, but instead he found himself turning and facing the unconscious form of Noctis Lucis Caelum. The man whose foolish adherence to prophecy had cost Ravus his sister. The one who had spent the last god-knows how many days merrily wandering the Eosian countryside while Luna destroyed her own body for him.

The man she believed would save the world. The chosen king.

“And you as well, Noctis.” Where once Ravus had spoken of the chosen king with contempt and hatred, now he found himself speaking with regret and encouragement. Whatever his faults, Luna had seen something special in him, she _must_ have. Otherwise –

Whatever it was, he intended to honor it. Not for Noctis, but for _her_. His only family.

With one last look at the body of his sister, Ravus Nox Flueret was off. Dimly he was aware that Noctis’ large retainer was staring at him, but Ravus gave him no acknowledgement. They had their mission. He had his. Alone.

But what _was_ his mission? What could he, a failure of a brother and a protector, hope to accomplish? Ravus sat down and put his head in his hands. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do, was there?

Ardyn’s face seemed to float in front of him, leering as usual. The wretch had known about Luna’s condition from the start and delighted himself in pointing it out.

_“What’s that? Your dear sister wants to commune with the Archaean? Dear me, is it really safe for a woman of her condition to climb such steep slopes?”_

_“Letting your sister galivant around again while you brood? What kind of brother are you? Back in my day, brothers always looked out for each other.”_ Ardyn had said that last one while waving around a sword that he’d stolen during the fall of Insomnia. _“Of course, perhaps the spirit of King Regis will look after her. The Lucians have always loved the Oracles, have they not?_ ” And then Ardyn had wandered off, still waving around that sword that had once belonged to King Regis. For all the myths surrounding them, the Royal Arms hadn’t been enough to save the King of Lucis from being gutted by a fish.

Ravus’ eyes shot open and he lifted his head. _The Sword. The Royal Arms!_ Luna had told him that Noctis was collecting them for some higher purpose, but as of yet there were still some out of his reach. And without them, there was little chance that the boy prince could challenge Ardyn.

Ravus knew what he had to do. As things stood the Royal Arm that Ardyn had looted still sat hopelessly out of reach for the Prince of Lucis and his retinue. But not for a commander of the Imperial Army who had spent much of the past few years in and out of Gralea and Zegnatus Keep.

Ravus stood up and turned back towards the altar. “Hear me, Noctis. Upon my honor as Prince of Tenebrae, I will retrieve your father’s glaive for you.” He gave a little chuckle. “It’s all a failure like me can do, I suppose.”

The first order of business was getting out of the city. Normally that would have been as simple as finding the nearest Imperial ship and climbing aboard, but something told him that this was no longer possible.

But maybe he could steal one? It was worth a shot. Ravus walked through the ruined streets of Altissia until he found a small transport, guarded by ten Imperials or so.

All of them raised their weapons upon seeing him. “Commander Ravus?” One of them spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“I wish to get back to the keep, but not with Chancellor Izunia. I…need to be alone.” His voice wavered. _Be strong,_ he admonished himself, _for Luna._

The soldiers looked at one another. “But our orders are to secure the Hydrean?”

“That will no longer be possible. The prince has gotten to her, and Chancellor Izunia was unable to intervene in time. There is no further need for me here, so let me board.” Without waiting for an answer Ravus marched onto the transport. Things were going surprisingly well.

“Wait.” It was the first soldier, whose hand was up to his comm. “Lord Ravus, we just got word that you were seen helping the prince’s retainers.”

Ravus froze in place. “A mistake. Pay it no mind.”

He heard the _click_ of the firing mechanism activating. “It’s no mistake. The message says that you killed Brigadier General Ulldor and attempted to assassinate Chancellor Izunia himself.” More clicks – the soldiers were all about to fire. “Don’t try and deny it.”

Ravus allowed himself a sigh. Things were about to get ugly. “Very well, I won’t.” One hand dropped to his sword, the other sliding over to a loose plating. “Nor will I explain myself. If you wish to know the circumstances, you will be free to ask Caligo himself soon enough.”

Before the ten of them could react Ravus spring into action. He whirled to face the Imperials, wrenching at the plating with his metal arm as he did so, tearing a massive section off. He raised the plating in front of his body while using his free hand to bring his sword to bear.

The Imperials opened fire, but fortunately the plating of Imperial transport was strong enough to take it. Then, once the volley ceased, Ravus hurled the plate into the middle of the group, who all dodged it before raising their guns to fire on the now-defenseless Commander.

Just as Ravus had planned, for in that split second he’d grabbed the sword in both hands and filled it with electricity, and while they raised their weapons he tossed his own. It landed right on top of this impromptu shield and promptly discharged its electricity, which was magnified by the metal into an immense plume of thunder that managed to down all ten soldiers at once.

Ravus stepped onto the smoking brick and retrieved his sword. He looked down at his handiwork, aware that he’d just sent ten more souls into the underworld for his own benefit. “May you rest in peace.” He returned to the transport. It was time to leave.

 

Imperial cruisers generally were meant for the magitek troopers, and this one was no exception, meaning that a completely flesh-and-blood human like himself had a fair bit of trouble getting everything moving. Nevertheless, after a few minutes Ravus managed to figure out the controls and rose above the Alitssian cityscape. Immediately after doing so he was noticed.

“Transport X-2001, what are you doing? You’re not authorized for liftoff.”

Ravus rolled his eyes. He doubted he could bluff his way out of this, so instead he decided to just barge on through. “I don’t care whether I’m authorized or not. I have business in Gralea, and I won’t have you interfere?”

The other voice was silent. “Lord Ravus? Is that you?”

 _Imbecile._ “No, this is Noctis Lucis Caelum.” It wasn’t like the fact that they would try and shoot him down would change.

Sure enough, communications dropped and every Imperial ship in the vicinity opened fire. Ravus grunted and tried to dodge, weaving through the waterways and around the buildings, hoping to shield himself from the worst of the blasts. Unfortunately, as he did so the problems of operating a magitek-oriented craft kept rearing their ugly head, hindering his ability to go where he wanted. Fed up, he punched the dashboard with his metal hand. “Fly straight, damn you!”

The impact of his hand left a massive indent that immediately started sparking. _Oops_. Some of the sparks landed on wiring, catching them on fire, and before Ravus knew it the entire cabin was ablaze. _Oh, come ON._ He had to bail, but at the moment that wasn’t an option. He needed to get lower, or he would die. Ignoring the smoke, the heat, and the flames, Ravus leaned forwards on the steering wheel and pushed his transport down towards the water.

The resulting impact knocked Ravus to his knees. He struggled to his feet, disoriented, and began running through the smoke-filled transport. Every step filled his lungs with smoke and within seconds he was coughing as hard as Ignis had back at the altar, but he kept going and before long he was at the back. Ravus weakly raised his hand and slammed the hatch deployment button, leaping out into the water and swimming to shore.

Once he’d pulled himself up onto the street Ravus collapsed from exhaustion and started coughing. _Come on, move! Come ON! They’ll be here any second, you idiot!_ But his body didn’t cooperate, and when the Imperials DID show up they found their former commander lying on the ground. Immediately, a good forty guns and axes were pointed at him, and Ravus was dimly aware that he was now in the same position that he’d found Ignis just a few short hours ago. But this time, there would be no help.

Brigadier General Loqi Tummelt stood over him. “Well, what do you know? If it isn’t the former Commander.”

Ravus was in no mood to indulge the fool in any chatter. “Just get it over with, Tummelt.” If he was going to die a miserable failure, he would die with some dignity.

“Gladly.”

Then the road exploded.

Ravus forced himself to sit up, taking in the utter pandemonium as the Imperials scrambled to get to their feet after a blast had knocked them all over. Ravus heard gunshots, and screams, and as he watched all of the Imperials were systematically blasted to the ground. Loqi started shouting something about order and a need for them all to stand their ground, but before he could finish another bomb blast sent him to the canal and he started frantically swimming him away. Ravus caught himself thinking that when he got back to Zegnatus Keep that he’d have Loqi court martialed before reminding himself that he wasn’t a part of the Imperial Army anymore.

Less than a minute later it was all over and he was the only one still alive. Then another group of soldiers walked out, soldiers that Ravus recognized as belonging to the 87th Airborne Unit of the Third Army Corps. One of them stopped in front of him and held out his hand, but Ravus didn’t take it.

“Never mind me. I just need a moment. Attend to your own, soldier.”

The man shrugged and moved on. Ravus took a deep breath and tried to get to his feet, but immediately fell back. _Damn legs_. They were still too weak from his mad dash out of the transport.  

Another soldier stepped in front of him, but Ravus waved them away as well. “Do you lot ever listen? I said that I just need a moment.”

The only answer was a slap. “Get your head out of your ass, Flueret.” Araena Highwind gazed down at the fallen commander with a withering glare of contempt. “By the time you can stand up the rest of the Nifs’ll be here, and we’re not waiting that long.” She extended her hand. “Now you have two options: come with me or wait for them. And I promise you that they won’t be nearly as nice.”

Ravus knew that she was right. “Very well.” He took Aranea’s hand. “You have my thanks, Highwind.”

“Save it for when we’re out of trouble. Can you fight?”

“I’ll be able to, now that I’m back up.”

“Good. Because we’re probably going to have to blast our way out.” Aranea gestured to the rest of her unit. “Everyone, move out! We’re heading back to the ship!” Ravus made to drop her hand, but she didn’t let him. “Sorry, but I’m not stopping us every five minutes while you stumble.”

Ravus snorted and smiled for the first time in days. His mission was back on track. _Notctis, Luna, I will NOT fail you_.


	2. Leaving Altissia

Ravus and Aranea sat together in the front of the airship. Aranea looked at him, curious.

“Alright, Fleuret, spill it. Why was everyone trying to kill you?”

Ravus looked away from her. “I…disagreed with them on matters relating to Altissia.”

“You ‘disagreed with them’ and they tried to kill you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not even the empire’s that batshit, at least not yet.”

“They are when the disagreement involves killing the likes of Caligo Ulldor and several dozen other soldiers.”

Aranea blinked, looked at him, and started laughing. “Damn! I’m impressed, Ravus! Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“This is no laughing matter, Highwind!” He stood up. “I did it because of my sister.” His voice started shaking. “I tried to get to her, to save her, but by the time we got there she was –”

“Gone."

All he could do was nod.

"Ravus, I’m so sorry.”

“It matters not anymore. I have a new purpose.”

“And that is…”

“To fulfill my sister’s calling and help Noctis ascend as the True King.”

Before they could continue talking the door to the bridge opened.

“Lady A! It’s an urgent call from the Chancellor!”

Aranea groaned. “Of _course_. Just when we’re trying to leave. Put it through, Biggs.” She looked over at Ravus. “You probably ought to make yourself scarce. This’ll be problematic enough as it is.”

Ravus nodded and hid himself under one of the desks on the bridge, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation. If it got him closer to Zegnatus and his mission, then he could cope.

Meanwhile, Aranea cut right to the chase. “What do you want, Izunia?”

“My, a little hasty, aren’t we?” Ardyn’s silky voice filled the cabin. Ravus clenched his fists and tried not to spit; hearing _his_ voice again was too much to stomach. “You really should take time to slow down and relax a bit.”

“Maybe I would, if you actually gave me the chance instead of keeping me slaving away.”

“Why, how offensive! You’re one of the finest soldiers in the empire, you and your little band. Do you think that I don’t value you?”

“I don’t think you value anything besides yourself.”

“How could you think such a terrible thing? And to think I was about to ask for your help evacuating the good people of Altissia!”

“Sorry, I’m already busy. There’s something back in Gralea I need to attend to.”

“Oh, can’t it wait? It’s just a simple task. And besides,” Ardyn’s voice dropped an octave, “going now will only add fuel to the fire.”

“Fire?”

“Just this curious little rumor starting to make its way around. Something about you and Brigadier General Tummelt? I’m sure it’s nothing major. Of course, if you were to desert people might…not take it well.” Ardyn _tsked_. “Those magitek troopers – so trigger happy. But I needn’t worry, I expect? You’ll stay and help with the evacuation, won’t you, dear Aranea?”

“Doesn’t sound like I really have a choice.”

“That’s the spirit! Do make haste to the cathedral and pick up the people there. There’s quite a few of them. Ta!”

The conversation must have ended, because the next thing Ravus knew Aranea had appeared in front of him. “I take it that we’ll be here a while?” He asked.

Aranea exhaled. “Apparently. I’m really sorry about this. If there was a way for me to get you out of here faster, I would.”

“You’re doing enough as is. Besides, this gives me time to plan for when we arrive in Gralea. Just don’t expect me to leave the ship.”

“I hadn’t planned on it. There wouldn’t have been any point in saving you if you just got yourself shot.”

 

***

Finally, after what had to be at least a day, Ravus looked up from his book and found a decidedly-haggard Aranea storming into his quarters. 

“Are we finally free to leave?” Ravus asked.

Aranea didn’t respond and just gave him a look. “35 hours. _Thirty-five_. _Fucking_. _Hours_.”

“Have you been down there all this time?” Ravus was astounded, even more so when Aranea’s only response was to nod and slump down at his desk. “Did they forget that your soldiers aren’t magitek troopers?”

“Oh, they were well aware, don’t you worry.” Aranea looked down at the floor. “Why else would they put us in all the dangerous zones?” She looked back at him. “Half of my men are gone, Ravus.”

“ _Half?_ ”

“All because the empire didn’t want to risk their precious MTs.”

Ravus didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. The empire’s wronged us now, I suppose. Where have they ordered you now?”

“I’m supposed to report back to Zegnatus. That’s where you’re going, right?”

“Right.” He gave her a little half-smile. “Well, that’s certainly convenient. You can just drop me off and get on your way without anyone raising a fuss.”

“Half my men, ‘convenient’? What’s _wrong_ with you?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean –”

“Forget about it.” Aranea looked like she wanted to spit. “It’s Ardyn’s fault, not yours.” Aranea fell silent for a time, leaving the thrumming of the engines as the only sound. Then, abruptly, she stood up, mumbled something about comforting her men, and then excused herself.

_Damn that Ardyn._ True, the preference towards magitek troopers over flesh-and-blood ones was nothing new, but to go this far? It was despicable. _He’ll rue this day soon_. Ravus decided to amend his plans a bit: in addition to his earlier goal, he now resolved to take any possible chance to do Ardyn in.

The intercom chimed, and Ravus realized that it was time for lunch. He wondered if he, an outsider, be welcome in the mess hall, but realized that he didn’t care. And besides, he was starving. Meal bars and cup noodles gifted by Ignis only lasted so long, after all.

Predictably, his presence in the mess earned a large number of odd looks and whispers, all along the same lines: “ _The High Commander? What’s_ he _doing here?_ ” Ravus, who was perfectly used to odd looks by now, just ignored them and focused on his food. It was the same sort of decidedly mediocre slop normally served in imperial cafeterias. _Is the food the MT’s eat any better?_ He wondered. _Do they even eat?_ For all he knew they just plugged into a wall socket after every battle. It was amusing to think about, that the very least.

Ravus looked up from his meal to see that Biggs character from earlier taking a seat across from him. “Is Highwind doing alright?” He asked the newcomer.

Biggs shook his head. “Lady A’s taking the losses hard. Did she tell you how many of us died out there?”

Ravus nodded. “Quite the tragedy.”

“A damned atrocity, more like. And talk all she might about how it’s Ardyn’s fault, but it’s clear as day that she blames herself for it.”

“She didn’t choose to have you all signed on for slave labor.”

“I know, mate, but try telling _her_ that.”

Ravus stood up. “Perhaps I will.” The monumentality of his mission had been weighing on his mind ever since Aranea rescued him, and the thought occurred that having her and the remnants of the 87th Airborne Division by his side would be quite useful. With that in mind, he resolved not to waste his opportunity and went looking for the Commodore.

He found her back on the bridge. “I was talking with that Biggs fellow down in the mess hall.”

“What of it?”

“I just wanted to reiterate that none of this is your fault, but Ardyn’s.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“He said that you blame yourself for what happened down there nonetheless, but that patently isn’t true. If you’re guilty about what happened, don’t direct it at yourself, but at that accursed Chancellor!”

Aranea whirled on him. “What, you’re an expert on how I think, now? I don’t need your pity, Fleuret.”

“I merely thought –”

“– that I was beating myself up like some little girl?” She scoffed. “Please. I’ve spent too long serving the empire to give into a little guilt.”

“So you _do_ feel guilty.”

“What I feel is not your concern.”

Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Ravus decided to change approach. “Aranea, why did you join the army?”

She blinked and looked at him. “Well, _that’s_ certainly random enough.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Well, technically I’m a mercenary and the empire just happens to pay well. Is that reason enough?”

Ravus shook his head. “But there’s more to it than that. When I look at you all I can see is…betrayal. The same I felt back when Lucis abandoned my family to imperial occupation.” He looked at Aranea and knew. “You used to believe in the empire, didn’t you? As a force for good?”

She looked away and didn’t answer, but it was all he needed to know. Ravus pressed on. “Please, you have to understand – whatever empire it was that you believed in, that you were willing to risk your _life_ for, it’s gone. It died the moment Ardyn Izunia began whispering in the ear of Iedolas Aldercapt.”

Aranea gave him no acknowledgement and continued looking at the floor. Some instinct of Ravus’ told him to hold back, so instead he gave her space to brood and hoped that she’d make the decision he wished for.

He was not disappointed. “Say, this ‘mission’ of yours. I’m assuming it has to do with Prince Noctis?”

“Aye. My goal is to aid his ascension by retrieving his father’s stolen sword.”

“And how exactly will this help him?”

What was it that Luna had told him? Ravus tried to remember. “Regis’ sword is one of the Lucian Royal Arms. Once the Prince collects them all, he will awaken as the True King and wield their powers to banish the daemons from our world. Or at least, so my sister claimed.”

“Well, if the Oracle believed something, then it’s not exactly likely to be inaccurate.” Aranea thought for a moment. “Oh, very well. I suppose that I already severed my ties to the empire when I started killing Loqi’s MTs.”

“Why _did_ you, anyways?”

Aranea shrugged. “Because I couldn’t stand him? Honestly, I was just pissed at the way the empire was acting when all hell was breaking loose and needed a punching bag. He just happened to be right there.”

Ravus chuckled. “Fair enough.” He walked over to her and extended his hand. “Allies, then.”

Aranea took it. “Allies, through and through. Ravus Nox Fleuret, welcome to the 87th Airborne Division formerly of the Niflheim army.”

Their craft drove itself out of Altissia, into the vanishing sun. With any luck, with the help of Aranea and her soldiers Ravus would be able to help Noctis rise before its light vanished for good.


	3. Plan of Action

The remainder of the 87th fleet had all been gathered in the Assembly area as fast as could be managed: it was time for a speech.

Aranea cleared her throat and took a deep breath. What she and Ravus were trying to sell was like to be a hard buy for many of these men. Still, she was their leader, and she _had_ to try and convince them.

And so she began. “The events in Alitssia were, to put it bluntly, a disaster. We lost friends and comrades, people we’ve fought alongside and broken bread with. Half of us that departed for Altissia died there. But not just them.

“We lost the Oracle. Lady Lunafreya, as many of you may have guessed, is no longer with us.” She paused and let the information sink in. Judging by the ripple of whispers that was passing through the ranks, it seemed that this was a shock.

Aranea continued. “You may all be wondering ‘how did she die?’ The Empire would have us believe that it was Leviathan. Just as our own died as a result of the Hydraean, so did Lunafreya.” She spit. “It’s a damn lie. All of it. Only one thing about Ardyn’s load of bull is true: the fact that there’s one source to blame for all the death visited on Altissia. And that source is the Empire itself. While we risked our lives protecting the civilians what were they doing? Running through the city searching for Noctis Lucis Caelum in order to kill _him_ as well. And after that? While _we_ bled and died on the streets and in the canals, _they_ kept their MTS safe and dry. Ask yourselves: now many magitek troopers did you see moving rubble or braving the water? Not a damned one, by my count.” More whispering, this time accompanied by nodding heads. “They may not have directly ordered their execution, but the Empire’s to blame for the deaths of our own nonetheless. It’s clear as day that they stabbed us in the back.

“But even _that’s_ better than what they did to lady Lunafreya. She wasn’t stabbed in the back, but in the gut, and by none other than that bastard Chancellor himself.”

Her men erupted in an uproar. Many of them had had their own doubts about Chancellor Izunia, much like their leader, but such a drastic act like killing the Oracle was something that even the most pessimistic amongst them would have thought beyond him. But the second that Aranea said it, they knew it was true: their Commodore never lied to them in the past, and they knew that she wasn’t about to start, particularly over something like this.

Aranea waited for the clamor to die down before speaking again. “I take it that this pisses you off. Good. It does to me as well. So, I’ll ask you the same question that High Commander Ravus asked me: why are we still serving the Empire? Why do we owe a _sliver_ of respect to a government of murderers and despots? Is there any reason at all to spend _one more minute_ licking the boots of those who throw away the innocent for their own benefit?”

“NO!” All the soldiers shouted as one.

“Exactly!” Time for the finish. “When we rescued High Commander Ravus, the empire was about to execute him for defecting and standing for the people and the True King. I say this: we stand with him, for the good of all! Down with the empire!”

“DOWN WITH THE EMPIRE!”

Ravus had listened to the entire speech from the back of the room, and after it began to empty out he went up to Aranea. “That was quite the speech. I half expected them to demand that you drop them off somewhere to start killing MTs before the day could end.”

“I only said the truth.” She favored him with one of her rare smiles. “But thanks. Truth be told, I was worried about how to persuade a bunch of Niflheim citizens to take down the empire, but it seems that I didn’t have to worry about that.”

“Apparently not. Well, now that you’ve got everyone all riled up, shall we plan how to best direct that bloodlust?”

***

The four of them gathered in Aranea’s quarters: Ravus, Aranea, Biggs and Wedge. Ravus pulled up a diagram of Zegnautus Keep and pointed at the throne room. “Our target is here. Lately, emperor Aldercapt has taken to keeping the Sword of the Father on him at all times as a trophy of his victory and his eternal glory.”

“Humble, that.” Biggs observed. “Hang on – I thought _you_ carried it around with you? That’s what everyone says, at least.”

“I did, for a time, but the sword never judged me worthy.” _And why would it, considering all I have done?_ “Because of this I had no qualms about giving Aldercapt the sword when he demanded it of me. I now know that was a mistake of mine.” _Like damn near everything else I’ve done with my life_.

“That’s all well and good, but how do we actually get there?” Arenea was scrutinizing the diagram. “I don’t see any way we could sneak in, and it’d be more than our lives are worth to fight our way up.”

“Perhaps if you committed all your men to the side gate, we could overwhelm them before the main force arrives?”

“ _No._ ” Her answer was final. “Even if we’re rebelling, I’m not throwing away the living half of my men so carelessly. Doing that’s too dangerous.”

Ravus decided not to argue. “Alright, in the interest of preserving lives I suggest that we disembark some ways away from our destination and proceed on foot as a small group.” He pointed to the bottom of the map. “There’s a supply lift we can take from here up to the main cargo storage bay.”

“Doesn’t that put is near Insomnia’s Crystal?”

“That is correct. Normally it would be heavily guarded but depending what Noctis and his retinue are up to that may not be a problem. And besides, if worst comes to worst, I’m sure Ardyn has some pets around we can release.”

“Only as a last resort.” It wasn’t a suggestion – Aranea had no intention of going near daemons for any reason other than killing them if she could avoid it. “Well, that puts us what, two floors below the throne room.”

“Three, in truth. It should be an easy climb from there.”

“Heh. Knock on wood.” She looked at Biggs and Wedge. “Is this plan okay with both of you?”

Biggs nodded, but Wedge remained silent for a moment. Then, for the first time Ravus could ever remember, he spoke. “Wait. I’m not sure if we should go straight there.”

“What are you talking about?” Ravus gaped at him. “We need to get there soon, lest Ardyn make off with the sword or pull some other stunt!”

“There’s something else. I was looking through imperial files and I found this.” Wedge moved to the monitor and pulled up a satellite image of an abandoned quarry, in the middle of which was a small, white-brick dome guarded by a legion of imperial soldiers.

Wedge blinked. “Is that…a royal tomb?” Wedge nodded. “Blimey!”

“It’s guarded heavily, too.” Aranea frowned. “Looks like they’ve got at least ten Maniples and a good twenty MT platoons. If the Prince and co. go anywhere near that they’ll get squashed like a bunch of bugs.”

“Maybe they’ll pass it by, then?” Biggs asked.

Ravus shook his head. “They mustn’t. If Noctis is to fulfil his calling he needs _all_ the royal arms. He can’t afford to skip one just because it’s too hard to reach.”

“So, then what? We just land and fight our way through a whole bloody army?”

“No.” Wedge pointed to a swamp nearby. “There’s a nest of Malboros there.”

“How many?”

“At least ten, according to the notes.”

Aranea whistled. “Damn. That almost feels too cruel for even MTs.”

“All due respect, Lady A, but we haven’t any other options.”

“I say we do it.” Wedge was right, Ravus felt. “The more it softens up things for both us and Noctis, the better.”

“Biggs? What do you think?”

“Might as well, Lady A.” Biggs smirked. “Besides, we owe them for Altissia.”

“Then it’s settled. Biggs, Wedge. Go inform everybody.”

They saluted, departing and leaving Ravus and Aranea alone.

“I hope you don’t mind this side trip. It won’t get us any closer to Gralea, but it’s still helping the Prince.”

“Don’t worry about it. My goal is unchanged, and this still will bring Noctis one step closer to becoming the True King.”

***

They reached Cartanica at dusk. There plan was simple: split into two teams, each with twenty soldiers, Aranea and Wedge leading one group while Ravus and Biggs led the other (“you need the one that actually talks”, Aranea had insisted). Aranea’s team would be in charge of setting the Malboros on the hapless imperials, leaving Ravus’ to mop up any survivors.

“Did she say what the signal was going to be?” Ravus asked, unable to remember if Aranea had said there was one or not.

Biggs shrugged. “No clue. Let’s just charge when we hear the screaming.”

“Fair enough.”

They didn’t have long to wait: within minutes, the sounds of battle filled the air as the imperials suddenly had to contend with ten very-angry hellbeasts. Ravus turned to his team and gestured forwards. “Time to go, soldiers! You know the mission. For Aranea Highwind and the True King!”

“ _For Aranea Highwind and the True King!_ ”

They charged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for both the lateness and the short length of this chapter.


	4. Fodina Caestino

During his years in the Niflheim army, Ravus had accrued what he thought was a large amount of knowledge of magitek soldiers and their capabilities. He knew their strengths, their weaknesses, what they resisted and what they were susceptible to. For example, in his experience magitek troopers were just as susceptible to poisoning as their human counterparts. As such, when faced with the infamous Bad Breath ability of the Malboros, the MTs were liable to fall _en masse_ , only overwhelming them through sheer numbers. In this case, the Maniples would probably act as a significant equalizer. Ravus imagined that the empire would eventually come out on top, losing perhaps four or five full platoons and maybe a single Maniple, so he and Aranea would still have their work cut out for them.

This was not remotely close to what actually happened.

As it turned out even magitek troopers were vulnerable to confusion, and the first Malboros over the breech managed to make two full platoons go batshit before the empire could even react; one platoon immediately charged their comrades guns-blazing, while another went after the Maniples. Most gloriously, the latter platoon had at least a half-dozen MT Assassins, meaning that instead of being unilaterally gunned-down the platoon actually made some headway against the giant walkers. All the while the Malboros rampaged, spewing their Bad Breath everywhere and gobbling up entire squadrons left and right.

Ravus and his team were smack dab in the middle of the carnage, busily cutting their way through a group of axemen that had managed to completely avoid getting targeted by anyone or anything. Aranea’s soldiers were well-trained, he had to give them that; they were matching the axemen blow-for-blow and inflicting a significant number of casualties. In particular, Biggs was blasting his way through like a one-man-army while shouting “DIE, CYBORG BASTARDS!” As for Ravus, he grimly focused on the task at hand. Even if they were MTs, taking all these lives still felt…wrong.

_Get a grip, Fleuret_ , he admonished himself after clearing out a circle of MTs with his Last Rites technique, _they’re basically just Daemons. They’re no different from Ardyn._ He tried to make that what he saw in these soldiers: not a platoon of magitek troopers, but a platoon of Ardyns. _Those_ he could cut down without remorse.

Before he knew it, the area around them was clear of living enemies. Ravus turned back to his group. “Is everyone alright?”

“Aye, mostly.” Biggs replied. “We’re all still alive. In one piece, though, I’m not as sure.”

“I fear I can’t go on, Lord Ravus.” A man limped forwards, clutching his arm. “I caught an axe in the hip and one of their hook things in the shoulder. I can’t even hold my gun anymore.”

“Then return to the ship. You’ve done all you must.” Then, almost as an afterthought, Ravus added in a “thank you, soldier.” It had been a while since he’d commanded any number of human troops, and magitek soldiers neither requested nor required gratitude. It would take him a bit to start thanking common soldiers again, he realized.

“If any of the rest of you need to leave, do so.” This was another thing that he’d have to get back into the habit of: remembering that human limitations were not the same as magitek ones. In the end, only two more had to tap out, leaving them a respectable eighteen. He wondered how Aranea was doing.

 

As a matter of fact, Aranea was working her way towards him. Seeing the pandemonium of the battle she’d decided that it would be better to let Ravus command everything on the ground while she personally saw to the Maniples, which struck her as the easiest arrangement. The only problem was getting over to Ravus. Her chosen point of entry had unfortunately put her in the path of several Malboros and within easy shooting distance of multiple snipers, meaning that they had a hell of a fight on their hands.

At the moment, Aranea was busy taking out the snipers while Wedge commanded the rest of their group. It felt good to take to the air again, she had to admit, and flex her skills as “The Dragoon.” Almost good enough to make her forget her situation. Almost.

She landed on the ridge some ways away from the snipers, and before they could swing their rifles around to train on her she leapt on the nearest one. One quick stab put him out of commission, and another stab took out the next one. Things seemed to be going easily up where she was, so Aranea chanced a look down at the battlefield. Wedge and co. seemed to be holding their own, and by the looks of it had even managed to fell one of the Malboros and were now using it as an improvised barricade of sorts. Ravus’ team seemed to have it easier, and as she watched he appeared to call down some kind of lightning attack that leveled all the MTs around him. _Damn. Wish I could do that._

Aranea suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her shoulder and grunted; she’d been hit! Without missing a beat she vaulted back into the air and hurled herself at the assumed culprit, missing the stab but managing to recover in time to hurl him bodily off the cliff. _Just two more to go, but how bad was I hit?_ Before she continued on she had to find that out, so she leapt back into the air and hid behind a boulder at the top of the cliff.

“Let’s see here.” She mumbled. “How good a shot were you?” Her shoulder ached when she moved it, and when she tried to probe under her armor with her fingers touching her skin sent waves of pain up and down her arm. “Damn it.” She withdrew her fingers, which thankfully were dry. The metal plating had done its job well enough, and Aranea figured that she probably wasn’t any more than bruised.

Still, it was better not to risk getting injured any more. To that end, Aranea decided to make sure that she actually knew where both of the remaining snipers _were_ before going after them, but when she hazarded a glance out from behind her hiding space she only noticed one. _Great. Someone’s managed to sneak off_. Where were _they_? She took another glance around and saw nothing.

Her original scoping of the ridge had told here that there were only two areas for a human – or MT, in this case – to safely get enough purchase: the ledge where the snipers had originally been stationed, or the clifftop she currently occupied. _And if he’s not below, and there’s not enough space up here for both of us, that means…_

She looked down at the ground. Sure enough, the missing sniper was there, having managed to dismount from the ridge and currently racing his way across the battlefield. _What’s he after?_ One more glance told her: the last two walkers that were as of yet neither destroyed nor occupied fending off the crazed Malboros.

Aranea swore. Of _course_ he happened to be heading in the worst possible direction. Well, there was nothing to do but try and kill both snipers before the one on the ground could get to his destination, so she forced herself to move. _No time to waste on the one still on the ridge_. She resolved to make a quick kill: her Dragoon move would do nicely here. Aranea grabbed her lance, vaulted as high into the air as she could, moved into the standard position, drove her spear downward –

– and promptly exploded both the hapless MT and her bruised shoulder. _SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!_ She knew from the _crunch_ below her that the magitek trooper was dead, but for a second Aranea was sure that she was as well; all she could see were stars against a red background. _Note to self:_ she thought, _don’t do the Dragoon thing for a bit_. The world swam back into focus, and Aranea forced herself to return to the task at hand. _Where’s that last guy?_

Unfortunately, the precious moments she’d lost trying not to pass out from the sudden blast to her shoulder had been all that the sniper needed, and Aranea realized that she now had a pair of laser sights aimed at her head. As well as a large number of rockets steaming from the origins of said lasers. _Of COURSE the universe has to keep shitting on me_.

Gritting her teeth, Aranea leapt back into action, evading the rockets and soaring over the battle as much as she dared. It was surprisingly painful going, but she managed to keep her focus straight long enough to land at the feet of her targets. _But what do I do now?_ Tearing at them with her lance was out of the question; if she tried that she’d be lucky not to faint from the pain, which would get her killed for sure. _But what if I…_

She glanced up at the nearer of the two Maniples. “Hey! Down here, you hunk of bolts!”

Without missing a beat, whatever computer brain controlled the walker led it to immediately unload a fresh volley of rockets at Commodore. If even one reached its’ target, Aranea was liable to be blown to bits – those things had the explosive force to tear through her armor like a bunch of wet paper.

 This was precisely the move she’d been hoping for.

Aranea leaped into the air the millisecond it fired, so that instead of hitting her the rockets went straight through the empty air into the central computer of the other Maniple. Unable to recover from the sudden critical damage to its central processors, it exploded, destroying both the last sniper and the first walker.

With a grace that belied both her injured shoulder and the massive explosions she’d just caused, Aranea landed on the dirt with barely a hair out of place.

Wedge and their group had managed to make their way over to her in the meantime, and all of their jaws dropped straight to the ground. Wedge spoke for all of them: “Oh. My. _God._ ”

Aranea looked at them and smirked. “All in a day’s work, guys. Now c’mon – we’ve got a High Commander to save.”

 

Ravus hadn’t been doing too badly for himself, mowing down another three groups of axemen in the meantime. He looked around: things seemed to be going their way quite well. All of the Maniples were destroyed, save one that was currently fighting for its’ life against a Malboro. By his estimation, speaking of, there were only two left of the original ten – apparently the MTs had accomplished some sort of rally that took care of most of the ones not seen to by Aranea’s group. As for the magitek soldiers themselves, less than a tenth were still alive, having been pounded into submission by both the 87th and the daemons they unleashed. Meanwhile, they’d only lost five of their own soldiers between the three who retreated earlier and two who had been killed since then.

All in all, a resounding victory seemed in the making, and as such when Aranea appared with her own ragged band – four of which were heavily wounded, and she appeared to be missing another four – he smiled at her.

“Things appear to be going quite swimmingly all around, no?”

“If you call nine dead out of forty ‘going quite swimmingly,’ then yes.” She glared at him. “Or are those numbers acceptable in your commands?”

“Six, actually. Three of your soldiers had to leave one account of wounds.”

Aranea snorted. “Six. Yes, _much_ better.” She shook her head. “It really _has_ been a while since you commanded soldiers that weren’t expendable magitek ones, hasn’t it? In the future, don’t be so cavalier about the lives of my men.”

“We won, at least. All who passed did so for a noble cause.” Ravus hoped that it was what she wanted to hear.

It wasn’t. “Bullshit. There’s still the Malboros to deal with, isn’t there?”

“Let the MT’s sort it out.” She was still looking at him, so he raised his hands. “I’m merely suggesting that, with our soldiers as exhausted as they are, that we pull a tactical retreat. With any luck, there won’t be any survivors to trouble Noctis when _he_ arrives.”

Aranea opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but instead she sighed and closed it again. “Alright, fine. You’re right. Let’s move out.”

And so they did, quietly and carefully enough as to not draw the attention of the lone surviving Malboro after it finished massacring the few remaining MTs.

***

It was rather awkward aboard the ship, Ravus felt, as Aranea was still annoyed at him for the “flippant disregard of the casualties.” Honestly, Ravus thought that she was being a bit over the top about everything, but he imagined that in the aftermath of Altissia the prospect of more of her own dying was something that she wished to avoid. _Just as each Astral made me more and more reluctant to let them sap Luna’s days, I suppose_.

As if reading his thoughts, Aranea soon pulled him into the hallway. “Just so you know, we’re making one more detour. If we’re going to work together, you can’t be that blasé about things, so we’re going to the one place I’m sure you actually care about.

“We’re going to Tenebrae, and I expect you to get your shit together.”


	5. Tenebrae

Aranea had deposited Ravus in the middle of a field some distance from the castle, upon his request: “It’s better that no-one knows we’re here, lest the empire send troops to hunt us down.” He’d explained. Aranea had shrugged, wincing as she did so from her injured arm, and allowed him to disembark without question. In fact, the affair had been so punctual and so free of issue on her part that Ravus half suspected that she was just looking for the first chance to ditch him. Regardless, here he was: back in his homeland, standing in a field, wondering what he was supposed to be doing.

_At least there aren’t any Sylleblossoms_. That had been a blessing: the blue flowers had always been her favorite. To stand among them now would be…

“ _If only I could…hear his voice once more…If we could laugh together as we did as children…_ ”

They’d stood among the flowers then, he suddenly recalled, their last conversation before she’d embarked on the quest that had taken her life. At the time, watching his sister weep over Noctis and yearn to see him again, Ravus hadn’t understood what she was making such a fuss over: even if she would never see him again, there were others who could fill the void. _You weep over a mere boy,_ he’d thought to himself.

Now, he knew better. Ravus was fully cognizant of the fact that he was in the exact same place his sister had been. _Oh, Luna, forgive me my contempt._ He looked up at the sunset, just as she had. Some part of him registered that it was only 2 in the afternoon; the sun was setting so much earlier these days. _Is that because of you, sister? Does your passing mark the end of the light, not just for me, but for the world?_

If so, then soon it would all be over, save by some miracle Noctis fulfilled his calling after all. _Will these be the end of days?_

Ravus forced himself forwards, across the field, towards those flowers Lunafreya had loved so much. If night was about to fall for good, he would look upon them one last time. What better way to say goodbye to the world and to his sister both?

The sun had sunk further towards the horizon by the time Ravus found the place they’d talked, and just like then the rays of the setting sun gave the world a golden tint. Ravus stopped, realizing he could see Fenestala manor in the distance, and turned away. _The flowers. Look at the flowers_. He forced himself to look at the Sylleblossoms. _They’re as beautiful now as they were then, sister._ Had Luna been here, she would have smiled and ever-so-gingerly picked a few. Before Ravus realized what he was doing, he did the same.

A memory came to him: twenty-one years ago, back when Luna was nothing but a smiling child and Tenebrae prospered under the rule of Sylva Nox Fleuret. Upon the birth of Prince Noctis, Luna’s appointed High Messenger Gentiana had told the future Oracle of her destiny and that of the True King, upon which Luna had only smiled and declared that she would work with Noctis in order to restore all the world’s light.

A month later, three-year-old Luna had toddled her way down to Fenestala’s grand cathedral in order to take the first step on her path to becoming the Oracle. Ravus had been waiting there for her, like a good big brother would, a bouquet of Sylleblossoms in his hand to mark the occasion. _She smiled when I gave them to her, her eyes as big as saucers. Neither of us knew what being the Oracle meant. Neither of us understood._ How young they’d been. How naïve.

The flowers grew blurry. In some ways, this was worse than seeing her body back in Altissia, worse than seeing her spirit nod one last time and vanish. Knowing someone was dead was different from reliving all the times you’d had with them and understanding that you’d never enjoy their like again, so while in Altissia Ravus had eventually been able to pull himself together – after a stern talking-to from Ignis Scientia and a knife to the arm – enough to keep some level of composure, here that was simply impossible, so instead Ravus feel to his knees and wept.

“Why, sister? Why did they _take_ you!? That the gods would call you and leave a cursed soul like myself behind…it makes no sense!” Ravus faced the setting sun. “ANSWER ME, GODS! IF YOU ARE TRULY AS BENEVOLENT AS YOU CLAIM, _WHY_ DID YOU SACRIFICE MY SISTER?”

The Gods, wherever they were, didn’t see fit to answer. They never did. _The only comfort humans are like to get will stem from other humans. No god cares even one whit for our lives_.

Just like how he’d acted in front of Aranea, he realized. Half of her soldiers dead at Altissia, and how did he react? By co-opting the remainder for his own purposes, leading them into a battle that killed six more, and promising them nothing but more violence over the hope that it would clear a path for him to retake the Sword of the Father. _I’ve been a fool and a monster besides._ The shame was overwhelming, shame over everyone that had died or been wounded while he soldiered on, convinced of his rightness: Aranea’s men, Ignis Scientia, Lunafreya Regis Nox Fleuret… _all their suffering near as much as Ardyn’s, doesn’t it?_

Ravus laughed before doubling over weeping once more.

“…Lord Ravus?” A tremulous voice called out from behind him.

Ravus stood up, turning, and came face-to-face with an old retainer of his and Luna’s. “Maria? Is that you?”

She was crying as well, he noticed. “Oh, stars above! I feared you died in Altissia, you have returned to us.” Maria frowned. “But where is Lady Lunafreya? Did something go awry with the rite?”

The words made a lump in his throat, but Ravus forced them out all the same. “My sister is passed, murdered at the hands of Ardyn Izunia. Noctis is our only hope now against the darkness.”

“Then she is truly gone?” Tears continued to flow freely down Maria’s cheeks. “Alas, that she would die so young! But without Luna, how can the Prince possible hope to defeat the Starscourge?”

Gently, with a care that had previously been reserved for Luna alone, Ravus raised his good hand to Maria’s cheek and wiped away her tears. “There is a way. If Noctis can gather all the Royal Arms of his forebears, he can dispel the darkness. Luna gave her life that he would live; she shan’t have died in vain, I promise you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even now, Noctis and his retinue work their way towards Tenebrae, attempting to reach the imperial capital. They must, for there is where they will find both their crystal and the sword of King Regis. I aim to bestow it upon him myself, even if it means my life.”

“But…lord Ravus…to do such a thing…”

“If my sister could give her life for the world, I can risk mine at the very least.” With those words, Ravus’ came rushing back. The last prince of Tenebrae would see his mission through, no matter the cost. “With all of the Royal Arms and the Ring of the Lucii, the True King _will_ rise.”

“Then he has it? The ring?”

“He does, unless somehow his retainer managed to lose it after I left.” Ravus clasped Maria’s arm in his. “But please, when he reaches this place, make sure that he does still have it.” Newfound trust in the prince aside, Ravus still knew that Noctis was a bit of an idiot. At the very least. “And tell him…tell him that I await his arrival in Gralea.”

Maria bowed. “As you command, my lord.”

“Thank you, Maria. Now, if you excuse me, I must be off.”

He radioed Aranea once he was alone. “Aranea, are you there? It’s me.”

“What do you want, Ravus?” Evidently, she was still mad at him. _It’s no more than I deserve._

“Aranea, I wanted to tell you I’ve been a fool these past few days. Coming here made me realize that you’ve suffered losses just as great as I have. We’ve both lost those we love the past few days. Thank you for forcing me to take a look at myself.” He meant every word of it.

The radio was silent for a moment. “Well, that’s…unexpected, I must say. Still, I’m glad that this detour wasn’t a complete waste, then.”

“Do you want me to go on alone?”

“What? Where’s _that_ coming from?” Aranea’s voice sounded very confused.

“I was just thinking that I have no right to drag you and your men into more death and suffering, especially not after everything that’s transpired.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” The sigh was audible. “I knew the risks when I decided to ferry you across the empire in the first place. And besides, if I back out now, there _will_ be a mutiny from a bunch of pissed-off soldiers, I can promise you that.”

“Right then, in that case I’d best return so we can be off.”

“Affirmative. Should I pick you up where we dropped you off?”

“If that’s what is best for you.” Ravus turned the radio off, took one last look at the Sylleblossoms, and started back the way he came. _Goodbye, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret_.

_Ravus…brother_ …

“Luna?” Ravus whirled around, hoping against hope for a second, but there was nothing but a light breeze. The last son of Tenebrae sighed, shook his head, and for the last time turned away from the flowers that his sister had loved so much.

As he did so a flower petal spun towards him in the breeze, like a hand reaching out to say goodbye one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a short one this time.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go! I've been wanting to this one for a WHILE, but I've always been too busy to really start anything. But now that it's summer, here we go: a tale of two kickass characters without enough screentime. I'll be trying to keep this story as in-canon as I can with the storylines of all the major characters.


End file.
